Page 41 of An Amateur Witch's Guide to Murder
This state is only a momentary reprieve from existing because he jolts awake what feels like seconds later, half out of the car. Quincy’s got him under the armpits and Topher’s on his knees in the car, trying to help slide Mateo’s body out. It’s the new worst thing he’s ever experienced, topping falling out a window onto his face.
Trying to assist is out of the question so he just focuses on gasping instead of screaming—it’s not clear if he manages.
He cuts out halfway up a dark flight of stairs, and then he’s on a couch, staring at a lightly textured ceiling with no concept of time or place. The numbness is gone, which is heartening and awful. He can feel his body so he’s positive it’s all there. But he can feel his body so he’s positive it’s all there in a bad way.
And there’s heat, familiar flames licking through his blood, engulfing his neck, down his back, and up his right side.
A quiet yet fervent conversation is happening somewhere to his right.
“—seems difficult for you both,” Quincy’s voice says, followed by the unmistakable accent of ice clinking against glass. The man’s regained his calm, but there’s an edge to his words, like the customer service neutrality is being ultra tested and only barely hanging on. “But I’d like a more thorough explanation about the part where he fell out a very high window and broke his neck but is rapidly getting better on my couch. And about the blood.”
“It’s magic,” Topher says in the purest tone, like that explains it all.
But the silence that follows means it’s not what Quincy was hoping for.
“Itismagic,” Ophelia says, and more ice clinks. Drinking. Everyone’s drinking, which seems fair. “His mom’s an extremely powerful witch. She did something to him. A ritual. And since then, he heals.” Every word of that is true, if lacking fundamental details.
“That’s insane.” Quincy says the words calmly but with feeling—and that feeling is the hysteria of stepping outside to enjoy the stars and having to deal with an alien invasion.
“We didn’t know how powerful it was. He’s never been hurt so badly before. But he doesn’t know what his mom did. And she’s been missing for five years, so he also can’t ask her.” The sound of glass against hard surface with urgency. “This is a secret. Whatever she did, bad people will want it, and he doesn’t have a way to give it to them.”
“We’ll keep your secret,” Topher answers readily.
Quincy, less immediately but eventually says, “I thought you were con artists.”
“Yeah, no. Magic’s real and it’s kind of shit,” Ophelia says evenly.
It seems like they’ve reached a—not consensus, but Quincy can’t freak out when no one else is. Ophelia made Mateo’s situation sound adequately sympathetic and that he’s lying in ruin on the couch helps. So, Mateo—still too scared to move in any way—asks the room. “What happened to the Dagger Lady and the Evil Wizard?”
A rustle of her skirts and Ophelia’s leaning over him. “After you fell, the wizard tried to shove past the Dagger Lady, but shedidsomething.” She emphasizesdid, meaning magic. “It flared around her and the wizard, and then the wizard ate shit down the stairs. Then ran. Dagger Lady chased after. We ran to the backyard to help you, and by the time Quincy got the car in the driveway, there was no sign of either of them.”
Most mystifying series of events ever laid out for him.
“So,” Mateo starts slowly, swallowing a few times to get his voice going. “The Dagger Lady who showed up in Seattle cursed Topher, but also put a protection ward on his dad’s house so curse-things won’t happen there, left a little lady figure under his bed—maybe to extra protect him—and has been stalking me. Or Topher. Or both of us.”
“If she’s involved with Topher’s situation, why was she looking for your mom? Why did she follow you? What do you and your mom have to do with anything here?” Ophelia asks.
It’s a great and pertinent question. “Blood magic,” Mateo says. “Blood magic is the only common element. My mom uses blood magic. I use blood magic. Whatever the hell is happening around Topher has at least this one asshole using blood magic. An asshole I am officially dubbingEvil Wizard, by the way.”
“I don’t understand how any of this works,” Quincy pipes in, out of line of sight and Mateo’s not going to move his head.“But blood magic sounds bad. Could this lady in white—” Topher’s voice softly corrects toDagger Lady. The pause before Quincy continues is so tired. “Could thisDagger Ladybe going after people using blood magic? Like, a magical vigilante?”
“Yes,” Ophelia says, and the certainty in her voice sends confused alarm through Mateo’s exhausted body. He tries to sit up, but her hand is flat on his chest, keeping him down as she speaks to Quincy. “Blood magic isn’t automatically bad, but a lot of magic people think it is because it puts the user in contact with demons. Until pretty recently, the most powerful practitioner out there was a blood magic witch, so no one could really say shit about it. Just by being terrifying, she kept things in check. But she’s missing. It’s causing a lot of problems. And a lot of new assholes popping up, thinking it’s a free-for-all to do whatever they want. Dagger Ladycouldbe a vigilante. Someone taking things into her own hands because of the influx of blood magic users.”
She looks down at Mateo finally, and there’s no apology on her face.
Learning that his terrible mom’s presence had kept the peace sits weird in a chest already hollowed out by her inattention and cruelty. When could Ophelia have even found out about this magic stalemate situation? But the answer’s obvious. Any time. He works and she doesn’t. And once upon a time they’d found a club full of magic people and Mateo had been too scared of discovery to go back. She wasn’t scared of anything.
Everyone does the obvious math of what Ophelia’s not saying. Topher breaks it, voice warbling, “Is the missing super powerful blood magic witch Mateo’s mom?”
Blue eyes stay directed down at Mateo, so he answers. “Yeah.”
Her expression softens when he doesn’t freak out, the fingers on his chest no longer splayed to keep him still but simply holding him. “The Evil Wizard has to have something to do with Christopher, because of the blood magic in his office,” she says, giving him something else to focus on. “And the Evil Wizard has to have something to do with Linnéa, because of the blood magic on her door.”
“Dagger Lady could have made the same realization, that the Evil Wizard has to be connected to the Nystroms,” Mateo says, eager to think about anything but his own life. “She could have put the curse on Topher to flush the Evil Wizard out. And she warded the house because she wanted to spare Topher killing his housekeeper or gardener or whatever.”
Mateo tries to remember the build of the Evil Wizard, beyond his own shock. The outfit had been layered, loose, and billowing. Probably a guy. Could be a large woman. They’d had some height. “I don’t have the imagination required to put him in a store buying that outfit, but could the Evil Wizard be Christopher?”
The only thing for sure is that the Evil Wizard isn’t Ignacia Luisa Reyes Borrero. She’s just over five-foot and did magic and grocery shopping in crop tanks and linen pants.
